by S. E. Hall
“None of the above,” Dad answers. “Minor slip-up, no big deal, and I’m certainly not going to censor your music. Although if it’s a lady’s ringtone, some respect would be nice.”
“Got it. Then why am I here?”
“Because, I am done with this moronic, show your ass and treat each other like shit war between you and your sister! This is not how your mother and I raised you to treat people, especially each other!” he booms, his face red and fists clenched.
“You told them?” Brynn snarls at me. “You and I talked, I apologized, you swore you were okay with it, then you ran and tattled? What are you, a lying toddler?”
“Brynn!” Mom draws in a sharp breath. “Since when do you talk to your brother so cruelly? He asked for advice, and as far as I’ve heard, hasn’t said anything even close to as nasty to you as you have to him. You gave yourself away with all your evil comments today. No matter what he said he was okay with, forgave you, whatever…it doesn’t mean you treat him worse for being kind to you! Not to mention, he’s not interfering with you and Ryder, while he sits back and sacrifices what might be his happiness. What’s happened to you, baby girl?”
Her head drops to her chest and she whimpers softly, “I don’t know.”
“Well, we certainly don’t either, but it’s unacceptable. Go to your room and stay there until you figure it out,” Dad snaps at her harshly. “If you need to see a shrink, let me know. I’ll take you to Whitley’s.”
“Whitley doesn’t go to a shrink,” my mom leans into him and whispers out the side of her mouth.
“I know, but damn if I don’t think it’s funny every time I say it,” Dad grins.
It kills me to watch her slink away, never having been talked to like that in her life. She’s the good kid; kind, quiet, considerate. What’s up with my little sister? I gave her what she wanted, folded like a cheap lawn chair, and yet…she’s getting worse.
“Can I go?” I ask. “I have work tomorrow.”
“Sure son, see you there. And JT? If you’re sure, go for it. With everything you’ve got,” he winks.
“Yeah, okay.” I hug my mom and leave, knowing Bellamy and Ryder will be long gone. Which is good, I can’t deal with anyone or anything else right now.
When I walk into my apartment, my mood goes from drab to dangerous. Sutton’s big ass is sitting on the couch, a blonde on either side of him, playing that Craft Mine War, whatever, bullshit. Beer cans, chip bags and a pizza box clutter the table and floor.
“Welcome home, roomie. See Shannon, told ya you’d have company soon. JT, meet Shannon,” Sutton doesn’t look away from his game, but the blonde to his left pops right up, prancing toward me.
“Hi, JT. I’m Shannon,” she coos, twirling a strand of her badly dyed hair around her finger.
“Yeah, caught that, both times. Nice to meet you. Sutton, can I see you in my room for a minute?” I don’t wait for his answer, already stomping that way.
A few minutes later, he walks in. “Sweet, right? You’re welcome.”
“Dude, I have to work tomorrow, the place is fucking trashed and I’m not in the mood to entertain,” I gripe at him, grabbing clothes for my shower and slamming the drawers.
“I work tomorrow too, bro. What the fuck is your problem? That girl’s been waiting for you all night. She’s a sure thing,” he laughs.
“You work at noon, Sutton, delivering pizzas. I work at eight, for my father! And I don’t want a sure thing.”
And there it is—the real root of my foul mood. I’ve worked on less sleep, Sutton will clean in the morning like he always does and I’m turning down blonde, curvy company. For one reason. Bellamy.
Well, two. Bellamy…and her bodyguard, Brynny.
“I’m sorry, man,” I rub my jaw. “Kinda had a fight with my family, you understand. I just want to shower and go to bed. Cool?”
“Yeah, whatever,” he shrugs. “I’ll take ‘em both.”
“You do that,” I laugh. “Maybe try to keep it down though, okay?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he waggles his eyebrows. “Seriously though, your family thing, you gonna be all right?”
“Yeah, we always are. This one’s just a lil’ more complicated than usual. I’m not used to fighting with Brynny.” My shoulders slump at the thought. From the minute they brought her home from the hospital, I’ve loved and protected my little sister. Vehemently. I can’t stand being at odds with her.
“I think I can help with that,” Sutton snaps his fingers. “Don’t move,” he says and runs out of the room.
A few minutes later, he runs back in. “Think these would help you guys make up?” He smiles proudly, fanning out five tickets. “They’re pretty sweet seats to that Sam Hunt concert next weekend. I won ‘em in a pool at work and I’m not gonna use them.”
“Brynn loves him,” I say excitedly, a spark of hope igniting…for two reasons. She’ll be thrilled…and there’s five, count ‘em five, tickets. Wonder who she’ll take? “You sure, man? Can I pay you for them?”
“Nah, only cost me twenty bucks to get in the pool. I just hope it helps. Here ya go,” he hands them to me. “Night, and we’ll be quiet.”
“Sutton.” I look from the tickets to him, grinning like a cat with a tummy full of canary. “Make all the noise you want.”
THE NEXT DAY goes by quickly. Dad doesn’t have much for me to do, plus I need to run by campus and pick up my schedule and review it with my advisor before school starts up again.
Then I gotta go make nice with my sister, tickets in hand. I know she’ll invite me. We’re blood and we always make up. Also, doesn’t hurt that there’s no way in hell our father will let her go without me in tow, watching her. And I know she’ll invite Bellamy. It’s the fifth wheel that concerns me. Brynn better not get any bright ideas and invite another guy with any ideas of his own—I don’t give a fuck who he is—Bellamy is off limits.
I hand in my last report to Dad’s secretary since he’s in a meeting, agree my way through the consultation with my advisor, then call Brynny on Bluetooth when I’m in my car.
“What?” That’s how she answers, “what?” Looks like this is gonna be harder than I thought.
“Hello to you too, Sunshine. Where are you at?”
“Home. Why?”
“Because I’m on my way over, I have something for you. A surprise.”
“Is it my best friend, because I seem to have lost her?” She starts out sarcastically but I hear a sniffle at the end.
“No, what are you talking about? Bellamy’s missing?” I yell, pressing harder on the gas.
“I don’t know, maybe. Chances are, no, she’s just ignoring all my calls and texts. Because of you, JT. I told you. Matter of fact, I begged you not to mess with her because I knew this would happen.” She’s openly crying now.
“Brynny, listen. I haven’t seen or talked to her since yesterday when we were both at the house with her. Whatever’s going on, it has nothing to do with me.” I’m not lying…I don’t think. Last time I interacted with Bellamy, she and Brynn were fine.
“You promise?” she sniffs again and asks.
“Yes, I do. Did you text her, ask her to call you?”
“Well,” she hem-haws.
“Well what?”
“I texted, but I asked why she was ignoring me. Because I called twice and she didn’t answer or call me back.”
“Brynn,” I sigh, “listen, I’m almost to the house. We’ll talk, okay? And whatever you do, don’t send her anymore texts ‘til I get there.”
“Okay. See ya in a sec.”
She hangs up and I drive just a little too fast to get to her.
When I pull sideways in the driveway, jumping out, she’s sitting on the front porch steps sobbing into her hands. “Brynny,” I rush to sit by her side and pull her in my arms. “You gotta calm down, everything will be fine. Nothing’s the end of the world.”
“R…, Ryder,” she hiccups, “sent me straight to voicemail too. W
hat’s happening? Did you tell him?”
“No, of course not. Brynn, look at me.” And when she finally does, I use the heavy voice she needs to hear. “You’re being paranoid...out of, could it be, guilt?”
She inhales a huge breath of realization and her eyes fly wide open. “Oh my God, what have I done? I meddled in Bellamy’s life behind her back. She would never, ever do that to me. I wouldn’t be friends with someone who would. Ryder? I was willing to just drop him, no explanation, to get my own, stubborn way. And I hurt you, was terrible to you, my hero, always in my corner.”
I don’t speak, unable to argue, as she lets that all soak in.
After long minutes, she whispers, “Alright, I’m a terrible person, good to know. How do I fix it?”
“Stop,” I tug her closer and kiss her head. “You’re a great person, one of my favorites. You’re just a sheltered nineteen-year-old who acted off fear and inexperience with anything like this. You’ve never had a lot of friends before,” I laugh, then groan when she slugs me in the side. “You’ve also never had a boyfriend. Ryder will understand.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, pretty sure,” I grin. “Guys tend to forgive a helluva lot when they’re crazy about a girl. Trust me.”
“I love you so much,” she throws her arms around me and kisses my cheek. “Bellamy would be lucky to have you and I promise to never doubt you again. Now, seriously, tell me how to fix it.” She sits up and brushes the dampness off her cheeks, a focus and determination I recognize well written all over her face.
“First, I make absolutely positive that we really have fixed us. You’re my baby sister, gotta be back to perfect. And since you already promised to never doubt me again and professed your undying love for the greatest brother in the world” I grin, “now, you can have the back-up present I brought as insurance. Thanks Brynny, for reminding me we don’t ever really need insurance.”
I pull the concert tickets out of my back pocket and hand them to her, bracing myself for the tackle hug I know is coming.
“You got me Sam Hunt tickets?” She squeals and jumps me, squeezing me to the point of oxygen deprivation. “Oh my God, thank you, thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” I wheeze. “But let go. Can’t breathe.” Shit, she’s a strong lil’ thing; all that softball has made her a beast.
“There’s five,” she smiles conspiratorially. “Who should we take as our fifth?”
“Up to you,” I pop a shoulder, looking away as if unconcerned. “I don’t even know who you’re taking for the other three.”
“Yes you do,” she giggles and pokes my chest. “Presley can be the fifth. She’ll love it. This'll be great. Very clever, brother.”
“I do what I can. Now, pull out your phone. We’ll text them both together, me helping since you seem to suck at it,” I chuckle. “You only need to fix you and Bellamy, not me and Bellamy. I’ll take care of that, understand?”
“No,” she shakes her head. “Not at all.”
“Oh, Brynny. Something tells me Miss Bellamy has figured out our little game and is not happy about it. Ryder too. They’re both waiting for us to come to them, full force. Prove ourselves. And we’re fucking Kendricks. They want our all, they’re gonna get it. Won’t know what fucking hit ‘em.” The mere thought of my plan makes me grin bigger, a fire in my belly.
Here I come, sweet Bellamy.
“Just don’t maul her in front of me please.” Brynn shivers and laughs.
“Just don’t watch,” I cock a brow and counter.
“Jesus,” she huffs and pulls out her phone. “Okay, tell me what to say.”
I talk while she types, pausing a few times to ask me if I’m serious—which I am—until she’s sent them both the perfect, apologetic message.
“Now we wait.”
Fourteen
Bellamy
MY SHIFT AT The Pit Stop over, I grab a seat at the bus stop and pull out my phone. My, Brynn’s certainly been a busy girl today, blowing me up with texts and voicemails.
I start at the bottom. You should always start on the last text— ‘cause it’s usually the one they not only gave the most thought to, once they had time to vent, think and rephrase, but more often than not sums up all the others…that you know you don’t have to spend an hour reading.
Brynn: I told my brother he absolutely could NOT pursue you. No excuses, but I didn’t realize how invasive, disrespectful and selfish this was of me. I only thought of myself and how I would be devastated if things didn’t work out between you two and it cost me my friendship with you. I was wrong and I am very sorry. It will never happen again and I hope you can forgive me. And if you can forgive me, I have Sam Hunt concert tickets for this Friday. I’d love for you to go with me!
See? Only read the last one of the many texts and heard everything I needed to. From her, that is. She failed to mention whether or not she had lifted the ban with Jefferson…but I don’t want to know. That part falls solely on him.
While I’m proud of her and it only reinforces what I knew, she’s a great person who came to her senses and did the right thing—the “girl” in me would rather a scenario where Jefferson stormed the castle door, sword drawn, and threatened to burn down the village (without hurting any villagers of course, he’d have warned them to go on a trip out of town first) if he didn’t get his woman!
I suspect her apology had a bit to do with both of them, a compromise on both of their parts. But “compromise” isn’t a real sexy word—so the longer I’m allowed to believe in my fairy tale version—the better. Or worse. He needs to hurry the hell up and show me something.
Me: I absolutely forgive you and do have faith in the innocence of your motives. Brynn, we’re good, and thank you. Also, just for the record, I forgave you before I read about the tickets, but I AM SO IN! xoxo
With a smile, I stand as I see the bus approaching, happier than one should be about the venture, because it’s starting to sprinkle. I’m about to climb aboard when I hear my name being called.
I peer around the line and behind the bus, spotting a familiar silver Lincoln Navigator, and a familiar Kendrick standing with his door open. Wet, black hair, light blue, button-up dress shirt soaked and clinging to his skin, and a lopsided grin that could stop time.
Seems Jefferson Kendrick doesn’t allow for a long pause between forbidden and come a’ calling.
I like it.
I like it a lot.
When our eyes meet, his grin spreads into a devastatingly sexy lure and he crooks his finger, mouthing ‘come here.’
“Are you stalking me, Jefferson?” I taunt with a very flirty smile of my own, sauntering over slowly, unconcerned with the rain.
He quickly comes around and opens the passenger door for me, lifting a hand to brush my wet hair off my forehead.
“Are you scared, or thinking of filing a restraining order?” he asks on a slight laugh.
“No.”
“Then it’s not stalking. I think the words you’re looking for are “pleasantly surprising you in pursuit of your undying affection.” Now get in, you’re soaked. And while I more than appreciate your white uniform top and excellent selection of a pink bra today,” his eyes smolder as he runs them over me, then back up to mine, “I’d rather not share the view with anyone else.”
“But I’ll get your fancy seats all wet.”
A low rumble emanates from his broad chest and he grabs my hips, physically placing me in his car. “I don’t care. Seatbelt,” he bosses, shutting my door and hurrying to his side.
He starts the car and heater, turning on my seat warmer. “How long is your bus ride?” he asks, pulling out into traffic. “I don’t know the exact route, but I know where you live, so I’m guessing at least thirty minutes.”
“Yeah, depending on the stops needed on any given day, usually about thirty to forty-five minutes. Lots of time to do homework when school’s going.”
He tries to smother his growl and fails. “What�
�s your major?”
“Undeclared. Just taking general cores and a few classes of possible areas of interest, like Sociology. I really have no idea what I want to do yet, though. You?”
“Business Management. For the family companies.”
“Makes sense,” I nod. In the silent gap, I turn to him. “Thank you for picking me up. Very thoughtful. Oh, and you may be interested to know, I got an unusual yet very informative text from your sister today.”
“I know, I was sitting beside her when she wrote it. She just needed a little help putting into words what she was feeling. Brynn’s new to best friends, drama, that kind of thing. She was ashamed, crying, so I helped her out. Are the two of you gonna be okay?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad.”
“That it?” I prompt.
“Pretty much. Helped her write one to Ryder too.”
Don’t. Ask. The answer might ruin it, Bellamy. Do not ask.
I of course ask, holding my breath while I wait for his response. “So, she’s fine with you and me…doing whatever it is we’re doing?”
“Think so, hope so, but it doesn’t matter. Brynn is crystal clear on the fact that she no longer gets a say, grumble, scowl or tantrum over anything related to you and me.”
Oh yeah, I feel my delighted smile overtake my whole face…perfect answer. Sexy as hell. There’s the Kendrick man I was waiting on to show up.
“So you stood up to her?” I ask.
“Well,” he laughs, “I’ve got about six, seven inches on her, so I don’t know about all that. But I’m here, so are you, and if you wanna take one of those selfies of us together and send it to her, I’ll pull over. That answer your question?”
“Indeed it does,” I whisper, almost to myself.
We pull up to my apartment complex and I start to open the door, thanking him again, when he stops me with a firm grip on my thigh.
“Whatcha doing there, my soaking wet beauty?” he asks in a cool, but sure tone.
